


Digimon TRI: Balance

by Tsubasa_Hane



Category: Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-08 05:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16423412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsubasa_Hane/pseuds/Tsubasa_Hane
Summary: One last battle waged between worlds, stemming from a single decision made fourteen years ago. Relationships will be tested like never before, and the answer to a question none of them are yet ready for will be revealed: what does it take for a Chosen Child to finally grow up?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story will be cross-posted on FanFiction.net.
> 
> If you're looking for a close parallel of Digimon TRI with some modest alterations, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place. Am I still keeping the same approximate timeline? Yes. Will I still be incorporating certain scenes into this retelling? Absolutely. There were some moments of TRI which I want to treasure for years and years and would never dream of taking away from you. But otherwise?
> 
> I'm rewriting the whole story from scratch.
> 
> Fair Warning: there will be headcanon.

**FOURTEEN YEARS AGO...**

 

_Rumor had spread far and wide across the land. Little more than whispers in the wind at first, but even the faintest breeze could strengthen into a great storm. And in the eye of said storm lay the Village of Beginnings. Aptly named, for it was there that all life in the World began._

_Including the one clutched protectively in the guardian Digimon's arms._

_Elecmon was all too aware of the dozens of eyes watching him emerge from the cave. Watching the swaddled child he carried. So small and helpless. Too helpless. Unable to move or speak or even see, with tiny eyes shut in a peaceful slumber. Babies were not meant to sleep so soon after birth. They were meant to expel all the pent up energy contained within their egg. Burst forth and greet the new world in birth—or, sometimes, rebirth—before venturing out in search of their next evolution._

_And while this baby could do absolutely none of these things, deep down, Elecmon knew it was not a simple matter of defection. Not when the mere sight of such an innocent_ _face_ _brought about a wave of warmth like he had never known. Warmer than any evolution he'd ever witnessed. Warm...but also cold, sending a shiver down his spine. Warm and cold...embodying a looming sense of joy and fear in equal waves._

_There was not a sound to be heard for more than a kilometer, despite the growing crowd. Familiar faces, fortunately, and those he trusted most._

“ _Well?” An impatient Ogremon shifted his weight against the tree, club tossed over one shoulder._

“ _Patience,” Leomon closed his eyes and held back a low scoff at his eternal rival. “Such a moment must not be rushed.”_

_Tensions among the crowd rose as they watched Ogremon straighten for a moment. Several of the smaller Digimon braced themselves to scatter if necessary...but then, for once, Ogremon pulled back. Forgoing any possible opening for attack the lion Digimon._

_Fabric rustled. Attention returned to Elecmon, who was using the swaddle to wipe carefully at the Baby's face. A series of small, nearly indiscernible twitches of muscle reacted to the touch, but little else. There was no crying. No other signs of movement._

_And yet..._

“ _Healthy,” The guardian Digimon concluded._

_Murmurs erupted throughout the Village. Low and barely coherent, but telling in tone. Hints of happiness. Surprise. Curiosity and wonder. But also a rising concern in the face of such an anomaly._

“ _It should not be possible.”_

“ _Is this a miracle? Or a warning?”_

“ _But what will become of--”_

“ _That's enough.” Elecmon spoke again, eyes narrowed. Though he did not raise his voice for fear of waking the Baby, it carried across the crowd with such force as if he had shouted. The world around him silenced once more, and he took his time to clear his throat before continuing: “Gossip all you like, but I have found no singular reason to treat this as more than any other birth. Even if the method was...unorthodox.”_

“ _Unorthodox?” One of the Gekomon croaked out the word, throwing its wiry arms in the air. “It's_ _unprecedented_ _! Everyone knows that Digimon are born from eggs! EGGS! Not...”_

_But he trailed off, visibly shuddering in lieu of finishing his own sentence._

_The sound of metal clinking drew everyone's attention next, and they turned to find Leomon rest his hand against the hilt of his sword. Though his body language remained calm, perhaps even relaxed, the bodies of several others around him tensed upon noticing Ogremon straighten as well._

“ _Should we be concerned?” The lion Digimon questioned._

_All eyes turned back to Elecmon in_ _anticipation._

_But it was another voice which answered: “_ _If you know not the answer to your own question, you would be blind as well as foolish.”_

_Eight wings, glistening a pure white in the afternoon sunlight. Extended to the whole of their span, they cast a shadow over Elecmon and the Baby upon their decent. In the center, a cherub. Fair, with blond curls and perpetually youthful face, only the four metal rings around each limb hinted towards the truth power within such a small creature._

“ _Lucemon,” Elecmon nodded in polite greeting towards the Holy Digimon._

“ _Not quite.”_

_The words caused Elecmon to do a double-take. Looking up at the being he could have sworn..._

_Then he saw it. One whose face was so normally deceptive in its cheerfulness...whose eyes could shine brighter than twin suns in the early morning hours...reflecting back nothing at all. As cold and distant as a moonless night. Skin pale to the point of iridescence—and was, in fact, enveloped in a faint, ethereal glow indicative of the true entity within._

_Realizing_ _his error, Elecmon's eyes widened in shock. “It's...you.” Clutching the Baby all the more protectively, he bowed his head as the being approached. “But why?”_

“ _You know very well why I am here, Elecmon. Let me see the Child.”_

_He opened his mouth to correct the evolution label...but could not find the voice to do so. His hesitation did not go unnoticed._

“ _I am neither here to hurt nor punish.” An apathetic sigh escaped the cherub's lips, followed by a slow blink. With a single tilt of the head, the Baby in Elecmon's arms was now within full view. “What is done cannot be undone. A new life in and of itself is not a crime.” Empty eyes continued to stare at the slumbering child, still oblivious to the attention, and Elecmon had to resist the urge to pull away. “But a life such as this one will not go unnoticed for long.”_

_Another shiver ran down his spine, but this time, for a different reason. He swallowed once before softening his voice to a volume only they would hear. “Surely He has no reason to care.”_

“ _On the contrary,” Imitating his softness of voice, the being inhabiting Lucemon shook its head. “He has every reason. Which is why the Child cannot stay here. Not where detection is not only likely, but certain.”_

_A cluster of Numemon began dancing in place. Close enough to hear, their beady eyes were wide. “We would gladly take the Child back with us! It would be our honor! Our underground home is often overlooked, and there is safety in numbers!”_

“ _But not brains, apparently,” Ogremon scoffed, arms folding across his chest as he sent a heated glare towards the Nu_ _m_ _emon, who scurried back in fear._

_Lucemon's head shook again, before turning back to address the group in general, but the_ _Numemon_ _in particular._

“ _Your offer does not go unnoticed, I assure you. But it is not enough. The Child will be sent away. Far beyond even our reach.”_

_Elecmon's jaw dropped. “You would banish one so defenseless? In such a state, even isolation would risk death.”_

“ _I said nothing of isolation.”_

_It was then Lucemon closed the remaining distance between them. Movements swift and deliberately. Taking the Baby from Elecmon's arms, who was then cradled with a similar degree of care and caution. Many around them twitched in_ _anticipation._ _Opening their mouths in preparation of protest. Every last word died in their throats, leaving them to stare in awe as the cherub then rose back up into the sky._

“ _The Child will be protected. You have my assurance of that. A guardian...no,” a slight tilt of the head gave pause to the words. Contemplation followed. A solution was reached. “Two guardians. Should the first one fall. Arrangements will be made at once.”_

“ _I don't like it,” Elecmon muttered nervously, empty claws twitching from the sudden lack of weight to carry. Or perhaps the new weight that seemed to fall upon them._

“ _Fortunately, that is not a necessary factor in the decision. My word is final. The Child will be brought to a place where even He would not think to look.”_

 

***

***

***

**PRESENT DAY...**

 

The airplane cabin shook as another wave of turbulence hit, startling the young boy awake.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” His mother called to him from the adjacent seat.

Blinking his vision back into focus, he allowed himself a few deep breaths of the stale cabin air before forcing a smile. “Just fine, mama.”

His response was enough to satisfy the woman, who returned to the novel in hand.

In the moments that followed, Wallace adjusted himself in the seat, wincing as he realized there were parts of him that had yet to receive the memo he was awake. A crick in his neck was solved by rolling his head back and forth a few times, and after brushing the blonde hair from his eyes, he instead turned his focus to the window to his right.

It was early afternoon in Tokyo. Countless buildings below reflected the light of the sun off their respective rooftops, giving the illusion of a sea of daytime stars. A sight that brought a smile to his lips as the last remnants of his dreams faded from memory, leaving room for far more pleasant thoughts.

“I wonder if Miyako-chan and Hikari-chan will remember me?”

 

* * *

Inoue Miyako paused mid-sentence to sneeze.

To her right, Motomiya Daisuke gave an exaggerated grimace before the expression melted into a more sly grin. He peeked out eye out from behind his mobile phone: “Uh-oh. We've been found out. She knows we're talking about her.”

“Very funny.” Miyako pretended to glare at her friend for a solid two seconds before scooting closer. Revenge was served in the form of deliberately invading the younger boy's space to get a better view of the miniature screen. When he showed signs of complaining, she ignored him and put on a bright smile for the camera. “Besides, I know you only ever have great things to say about me. Right, Ken-kun?”

“Ah...right, Miyako-san...” The boy on the other end laughed nervously, hand rising to the back of his head.

“Speak for yourself,” Daisuke muttered in between side-eyeing her and leaning so far to one side, he had to place a hand on the ground to maintain his balance.

Without breaking character, Miyako gave the back of his head a good, solid whack.

“OW!”

Across the city, Ichijouji Ken held up a hand to conceal the oncoming wave of laughter at the sight of his two friends. In the three years he had come to know them, nothing had changed. Except for their school uniforms; they were all in middle school now, each donning the emblem of their respective places of learning. Just one more reminded of how far away he still was at times.

It was Daisuke who had found a temporary solution to that problem; upon figuring out that they all shared a lunch block, he insisted they video chat. He'd received a new mobile earlier that year as a gift for good grades--(though, he readily admitted, those didn't start appearing until he agreed to let Ken tutor him on days they didn't have soccer practice)--and was all too happy to share the wealth.

Behind him, Ken could hear the busy chatter of several other groups occupying the same roof as he. Similarly, there were echoes of conversations coming through on their end as well. Perhaps not the most private of locations, but it wasn't as if they ever had anything confidential to exchange. Not unless they counted one of Miyako's latest tidbits of gossip.

And speaking of the perky, lavender-haired girl...

“Your school's festival is coming up soon, isn't it?” Within the last several seconds, it seemed she and Daisuke had formed a truce. She got to lean heavily on his shoulders to keep up with the conversation, and he no longer had to hear about her whining about not being able to see. Never mind the fact that it was his phone.

Ken nodded at the question. “That's right. It's next week. What about yours?”

“The same.” Daisuke frowned, and for once, Miayko was not the direct cause. “What lousy luck. I was really hoping we'd all get to go to both. But I already promised the soccer club I'd help out with their noodle cart.”

“Weren't you the one who suggested the noodle cart?” Miyako side-eyed him.

“All the more reason I have to be there!” He snorted at the implication she would think otherwise. “It's my recipe, and without me, they could completely mess up my latest brilliant idea. My noodle reputation would be forever ruined!”

“Ah...I'm not really doing much on my end,” Ken tried to offer. “I'm sure I'll still have time to stop by your noodle cart, Daisuke-san.”

“And we'll do the same!” Miyako nodded, excitement renewed. “Noodle boy over here might be too busy, but we won't be. Right, Hikari-chan?”

Silence.

“...Hikari-chan?”

But the remaining member of their lunch party may as well not have heard her at all; Yagami Hikari was sitting on the edge of the shared blanket, back resting against the safety fence as she peered over her shoulder at something on the ground below. Unmoving, save for the occasional gust of wind teasing at her long bangs. To many, her expression would have been almost unreadable. A passive neutrality.

Miyako knew better; Hikari was fixated on something incredibly amusing to her.

Curiosity taking over, Miyako abruptly stood up—nearly pushing Daisuke down from the force of movement—and marched herself right over to Hikari's side. Following the younger girl's line of sight.

Takaishi Takeru was standing in the middle of the school courtyard, surrounded by about five girls. His smile was wide and polite. Their eyes all had stars in them. The more he spoke, the brighter those stars seemed to shine, until two of them looked to one another in delight while the remaining three gave a mixture of cheers and delightful squeals.

It was...a sight Miyako knew she should have expected, considering, but one she did not know how to react to. Especially with Hikari still sitting beside her.

“He seems to be getting more and more popular lately. Wouldn't you agree?” Her words were cautious. Chosen deliberately and with care. Awaiting the inevitable reaction.

Except...Hikari gave none.

In fact, all she did was reach for the mobile phone in her pocket. A flip model, unlike Daisuke's, but sufficient for what she had to do next. Pulling up the text message option, she quickly typed in a quick succession of characters. The moment she hit 'send', her eyes returned to the ground below.

Miayko, too, turned back in time to see Takeru reach for his mobile phone. A model similar to Hikari's, he had to flip it open before reading the message within. A second later, he looked up at the both of them...and pretended to pout.

Hikari giggled in turn, and it was then Miyako was able to catch a glimpse of her screen: _So how many tickets did you promise them?_

“...ah!” The gears were turning in Miyako's mind, and she sat back with a knowing grin. “That's right. Yamato-san's band's latest concert is supposed to be next weekend, right? The one that's getting televised?”

This time, Hikari did offer a nod in acknowledgement of the question, but her eyes remained glued to her mobile until it told her she had a new message. She knew the sender without even having to look, and grinned when she read his response: _Are you saying I couldn't earn that type of reaction with my presence alone?_

 _So one each, right?_ She typed back, pressing her lips together to hold back the growing smile.

Still in full view of the mutual exchange, Miyako risked another glance back Takeru's way to catch his reaction. Sure enough, the other girls around him no longer had his attention in the slightest. He even turned away to continue typing out his latest response. Not that any of them seemed to mind; if Hikari's “theory” was correct, they'd already gotten what they wanted from him.

Hikari's mobile buzzed again.

But before Miyako could witness the newest development, the younger girl abruptly slammed her phone shut. Her cheeks were red and she looked torn between wanting to scream and melt into the cement rooftop.

“What did he say?!” She just had to know now!

“Nothing.” The response came a little too quickly. And through gritted teeth. She made a point of tucking her phone right back in her pocket, ignoring the buzzing sound of a follow-up message. The slight delay was enough to cool her face some, and when she turned back to Miayko, her face bore a mask of smiles once more. “He's heading up here now. Unfortunately, his new girlfriends won't be joining us.”

With a heavy pout of her own, Miayko slumped back. “...I really don't get you two.”

“What do you mean?” Hikari asked innocently, averting her eyes as she moved to stand up.

“You know what I mean,” Miayko replied back in a slight huff. “Even if you pretend—Hikari-chan!”

The moment Hikari rose, she began swaying on her feet. Enough that even Daisuke moved to put his phone down before Miayko jumped to the rescue, holding her up with a matching look of concern. From the blanket, Ken's voice could be heard asking what happened.

Blinking several times to clear her vision, Hikari rose a hand to her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly before opening them once more. Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked to Miayko sheepishly.

“I'm alright. Just a little vertigo. That's all.”

Neither of them looked convinced.

Still, she made a deliberate show of pulling back and proceeding to brush the remaining dust from her uniform skirt. Her movements were swift and at ease and showing no further signs of fatigue or injury, and in time, seemed to appease the suspicious pair. It was then that something in the distance caught her eye, and she looked up to see one of the larger international flights passing high above, through a mostly cloudless sky.

“Do you think that's Mimi-san's flight?” Miyako questioned, hands clasped excitedly together as she too caught sight of the plane.

It was Ken who answered: “I was told she wasn't due to arrive until Friday.”

“Oh. Right.”

Dejected, Miayko returned to her previous seat on the blanket, this time taking charge of Daisuke's phone as she brushed back her hair and lapsed into conversation about computer club. All other topics of conversation either since forgotten or pushed to the back of her mind to make room for her latest train of thought.

The sound of her voice faded into the air as Hikari lingered back. Eyes continuing to follow the glint of silver in the distance. Watching it fade away as it headed for Tokyo International. There was nothing extraordinary about it. No reason to suspect it was anything other than one more flight that wasn't bringing Mimi back to them just yet.

But...all the same...Hikari couldn't shake the feeling it was carrying something important.


	2. Chapter 2

“It's quiet this afternoon, don't you think?”

Sitting atop one of the amp speakers, one leg bent at the knee and supporting the weight of his arm, Yamato turned his head away from the window. The view from the practice room was pathetic on a good day, but he'd almost managed to catch a glimpse of cloud in the sliver of sky visible. His attention soon focused on the room's sole other occupant, and he waited a few seconds to see if Takeru would elaborate on his statement.

He didn't.

“That's ironic, coming from the person playing guitar.” He smirked behind the rim of his soda can. “Curl your wrist a little more. Otherwise, you won't be able to position your fingers for the third chord.”

Takeru smiled brightly at the advise, unfazed by the thought of error, and set to work fixing his posture. A slight shift in the seat, and he nodded to himself before trying again. His fingers where nowhere near as the comfort levels of his brother when holding the stringed instrument, but enough time spent fiddling had gotten him to the point where he could feign confidence in a grand total of three chords. Maybe four, if he could figure out the proper angle to bend his fingers.

For once, it was just the two of them. A peaceful lull in between afternoon band practice—the other members already having gone home for the day—and time during which the brothers would have to part ways. Both their parents were scheduled for late work nights; Takaishi Natsuko was finishing a last-minute editorial for the weekend edition, while Ishida Hiroaki was, coincidentally, hammering out details for Yamato's upcoming concert broadcast. The show was in less than two weeks' time, and with a primetime slot guaranteed for a live airing, he insisted that everything be perfect.

Of course, it wasn't like Takeru and Yamato ever needed an excuse to spend time together. Just...well...it was all the easier to justify when they knew they'd only be returning to empty apartments.

“It feels awkward,” Takeru admitted after a moment, pausing long enough to shake out the threat of a cramp in his hand.

“Only because you're not used to the grip. In time, it'll become like second nature.”

Without the amplifier, Takeru's subsequent strumming came out in dull, muted sounds, but Yamato listened close enough that it didn't matter. Each chord was awkward and stiff, lacking the reverberations of experience, but were otherwise correct. A fleeting wave of pride washed over him at being able to teach Takeru something successfully. He still wasn't sure when exactly his little brother had taken an interest in music, or why he suddenly wanted to learn to play the guitar. The skeptic in him suspected Takeru was up to something. The rationalist hiding behind told him there was only so much trouble the boy could get into with that kind of skill.

Then again...

“You said you needed five extra tickets, right?” Straightening, Yamato pushed himself up from his makeshift seat and towards a small desk in the corner of the room. Resting atop was a small envelope. He picked it up and began flicking through the slips of paper inside. “General admission or VIP?”

“General is fine. I don't think they mind so much where they get to sit, as long as the seats are better than the ones they were able to get originally.”

Nodding at the reasoning, Yamato counted out five tickets from the envelope, pulling them out to check they were the proper type, before replacing the envelope and heading back over. Concert sales had already exceeded the last show, to the point where he didn't bat an eyelash at his brother suddenly asking for extra seats. Members of the band had a few dozen to spare, and once he took into account certain VIPs he'd already invited—present company obviously included—there was enough of an excess to fulfill Takeru's request.

“I am a little surprised, admittedly.” As he passed the tickets over, he took care to watch the younger boy's reaction as he stated: “Five cute girls come up to you at lunch, and none of them end up VIPs for the weekend?”

If Takeru was surprised by his knowledge, he didn't let it show. “Who told you that? Daisuke-kun or Miyako-san?”

“Hikari-chan, actually.” The corners of his lips twitched upward and he folded his arms across his chest. “I saw her yesterday afternoon to drop off her ticket.”

“She's coming too?”

 _Success_ ; even Takeru couldn't hide the look of honest surprise at the news, momentary dropping his cool facade entirely. His eyes widened in a very telling manner, to the point where Yamato had to bite back the threat of a laugh.

Channeling his young brother's acting skills, he bore a mask of neutrality, his voice coming out in a similarly passive tone: “You didn't know? I thought you two were supposed to be best friends.”

“We are.” Any hints of pleasure were soon marred by confusion, however. “But I thought she was supposed to go to Taichi-san's soccer match that day.”

This much, in Takeru's defense, had been true. She'd mentioned the conflict to him a few days prior, during one of their semi-regular habits of walking one another home from school. On days when neither of them had after school clubs or other obligations. It was all too easy to fall into step with one another, walking along at a leisure pace as they caught up on all the things they no longer shared, now that they were in separate homerooms. Sometimes they talked about nothing at all, and were amazed at how quickly the time together flew regardless.

Miyako used to join them, since she and Takeru lived in the same building, but lately seemed more interested in precisely the opposite direction. The fact that said path took her to a park in between their and Ken's schools was more than mere coincidence.

“She still is,” Yamato confirmed. “But she said she could make the times work out if she planned accordingly. Sora was worried about the same thing, so I told Hikari-chan to get in touch with her to help with that.”

Too late did Yamato realize he'd left himself open; a mischievous glint in Takeru's eye appeared, and through his own joy at the latest news, he shook his head. “You're not going to help her yourself? That's no good, Aniki...”

“I-I'll be busy that day!” Yamato balked, brows furrowing in annoyance. A cough, to conceal his momentary lapse in composure, followed. “There's last minute practices and set-up and...wait, we're supposed to be talking about you and Hikari-chan!”

“We were?” Takeru's tone was far too innocent for Yamato's liking. “Why?”

“You know why.”

“Not really.” The facade was fully back now. Continuing to feign a passive ignorance, Takeru returned his attention to the guitar. He repositioned his hands in a much more appropriate manner, and the series of chords that followed were precise and crisp. “...but if it bothers you that much, Aniki,” he glanced upward, smile unfading, “You know you're still the one I love most, right?”

Yamato's cheeks flushed a bright red, and he closed his eyes and turned away. Waving a dismissive hand in the air, his voice betrayed the frustration at his brother's ongoing 'joke' once again successful in its intention: to distract.

“Don't you start with that again.”

Takeru chuckled softly at his brother's response. Exactly as he'd expected.

 

* * *

Taichi let out a sigh of exasperation.

“Seriously? There's no way you can all be that tired so quickly.”

His only response was a chorus of moans. Several of which came muffled from the teammates face-planted into the grassy field.

Hands on hips, the seventeen-year-old captain narrowed his eyes as he stared down each and every boy. Most of them were wise enough to avoid visual contact. One of them looked half asleep. Another looked half-dead, face and part of his practice jersey drenched in sweat. Combined with the audible gasps of breath and defeated postures, and Taichi was forced to admit that he may have been the only one on the team with any decent stamina.

“Fine,” He relented, head bowing in defeat. “We'll take a break. Five minutes.”

More moans.

“...ten, then.”

Unwilling to negotiate further, he headed over to the sidelines, where his bag lay half open. There was a towel sticking out of the main zipper, and he wrapped it around his neck before reaching for a bottle of water. The liquid was still cool enough to be considered refreshing, and once he'd chugged a good third of it, he plopped down on the grass, reaching for his cell phone and laying flat on his back. A few wisps of clouds passed by overhead before the view was obscured by the screen.

There were five missed calls, all originating from the same caller.

Before he had a chance to call back, however, his phone began to ring again. This time, it was Koushiro's number. On the second ring, he accepted the call, placing it to his ear.

“Hello?”

But it wasn't Koushiro on the other end: “I knew it! You are avoiding me again!”

Taichi shot up in his seat at the sound of Sora's voice, visibly recoiling from her tone. Looking like the child with his hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar, he winced for about two seconds before a certain realization dawned on him, and he pulled the phone back long enough to stare at it suspiciously.

“Why do you have Koushiro's phone?”

“We're on a date,” came the reply. Flat and dry.

Behind her, Taichi heard the sounds of a certain auburn-haired high schooler sputtering. Muffled protests followed, and if Sora's tone hadn't ben enough evidence she wasn't serious, Koushiro's reaction cemented the notion in his mind.

He snorted. “Yeah, right.”

A pause. Koushiro's voice came through a bit clear now that it was no longer panicking: “ _I'm not sure I should feel relieved or a little insulted he doesn't believe you_.”

“So what's this about, anyway?” Resigning himself to whatever impending fate the universe had in store for him, Taichi lay back down and threw his free arm over his eyes. “You're not gonna yell at me because of Yamato again, are you?”

“Why? Are you two fighting again?”

“No. Not really. Not unless you count my pointing out his horrific lack of taste when it comes to quality ramen seasoning.”

He was fairly certain he heard a slight giggle on Sora's end, but wisely chose not to comment. Still, it was a good sign she was relaxing—an opinion he also decided to keep to himself for the moment.

“I wanted to double-check with you about Friday evening.”

“Why? What's Friday?”

“Tai. Chi.” She deliberately emphasized each syllable in his name in such a way he couldn't help smile. Sora only ever did that when he really annoyed her. Intentionally or otherwise. “Don't tell me you forget already. We've been planning to meet Mimi-chan at the airport for weeks now!”

“Oh. That.” He waved a hand in the air, even though they were on a voice call and she wouldn't be able to see. “I'll be there. Hikari will make sure of it. You know that already, Sora. You really didn't have to call me six times during practice.”

The pause on her end was much longer this time. Telling. When she finally spoke again, Taichi could hear her sheepishness: “...you're at soccer practice?”

“Well, yeah. I can't exactly answer my phone when I'm on the field.”

“Right. I knew that.”

It wasn't often he managed to get a leg up on Sora. Normally, the teen was so on top of everyone's schedule, she could have recited Hikari's after school clubs, Jou's exam dates, and every sale Mimi was anticipating. Either she was having an off day, or else there was something more behind it.

For half a second, Taichi even considered questioning her on it before deciding that was probably a conversation better suited for Hikari.

“Anything else?” he asked instead.

“Not so long as you promise you'll be there. On time.”

“Yeah, yeah. If It makes you feel better, I'll even show up early.”

This time, Sora did laugh, and Taichi felt himself relaxing at the sound. As fun (and rare) as it was to have the upper hand, he always preferred Sora when she was at her best. Happy and confident. Even if it came at his expense: “I'll believe it when I see it.”

Snorting, Taichi said his goodbyes there and then before hanging up. When he caught his reflection in the metallic surface did he realize he was still smiling.

A faint gust of wind blew across the field, cooling his skin. Taichi closed his eyes for a moment, blocking out the ongoing complaints in the distance. The hand with the phone fell to his side. His shoulders slumped. He repositioned himself to lay back down again, moving to adjust the towel around his neck into a makeshift pillow.

Footsteps approached. From the opposite direction of the soccer field.

Peeking one eye open, he was surprised to find an upside-down image of his little sister bending over him.

“Hikari?” Confused, he sat up once more and turned to face her. “What are you doing here?”

Wordlessly, she revealed a small package hidden behind her back. It was the bento box their mother made for him that morning specifically for that day's practice. Taichi was remiss to admit he'd forgotten about it completely until that moment.

“And just what is this good deed of yours going to cost me?” He held back a smile as she placed the box on the ground beside him, already knowing what she would say.

“A super-sized cone of the latest choco-cherry swirl from the convenience store.”

One of the rare times in which Hikari was completely predictable. Her growing sweet tooth was an open secret among their friends, and yet absolutely none of them could bring themselves to tease her about it. Especially not the older children. Especially since she never seemed to gain an ounce in spite of the quantity.

Taichi made a point of sighing audibly, feigning annoyance at the request. Even though he knew he would have gotten it for her regardless. Such a relatively simple request coming from that face? It was almost impossible to say 'no'.

And the worst part of it all was that Hikari probably knew that too.

“Deal.”

Her expression brightened, and Taichi couldn't bring himself to care that he was a total pushover.

“Oi! Hikari-chan”

The siblings turned at the sound of her name. Much to Taichi's chagrin, the entire team was suddenly up and about. Several of them were doing leg stretches on the ground. Others were racing jumping jacks, while the rest were simply quick-stretching their arms at a pace too rapid to actually be productive.

His eyes narrowed. “I thought you guys were too tired to move.”

“Don't be ridiculous!” The boy in the middle called back. He smiled so brightly the sun seemed to shine off his pearly whites. “We're all here to do our best always. Right, Hikari-chan?”

The younger Yagami blinked twice before offering a faint smile in return: “Right!”

A wave of laughter and other exclamation of glee at her reaction followed, and Taichi's shoulders slumped for an entirely new reason. Raising a hand to his forehead, he massaged the threat of an oncoming headache with the tips of his fingers as he muttered a few choice words under his breath.

“I'm not sure whether to ask you to stop by practice more often or tell them you have a boyfriend and get it over with.”

“I don't have a boyfriend,” she pointed out.

“They don't have to know that.”

“Oniichan...”

Ignoring her disapproving tone, Taichi finally moved to stand. His armed reached up and over his head, neck cranking from one side to the other in attempt to alleviate the knots. The gestures were rewarded with a few satisfying pops. He inhaled deeply once and let out a slow, audible exhale before turning back to Hikari.

She was already reaching for her phone, checking a new incoming message.

“I have to go. Miyako-san and I are supposed to meet up at the mall, and she's just about to leave the park with Ken-san.” The latter news didn't seem to surprise her in the least, despite the fact that he was not part of the original plan: “I promised to help her find a new dress for this weekend.”

“You'll still be home for dinner, thought, right? Or were you three going out to eat?”

She shook her head, tucking her phone back in her pocket. “No, I'll be home. You?”

“Same.” He reached out to lightly ruffle her hair. “See you then. And thanks for bringing my lunch.”

Some girls might have taken offense to such a thing, but Hikari always took the gesture in stride. Waiting until he was done to fix the short strands, smoothing the sides back down and brushing the stray bangs from her eyes. When she was satisfied with the result, she backed away with one last wave before heading to the entrance field. Her bike was resting against a bench.

Taichi took the time to watch her head off, waiting until she was out of sight before heading back to the rest of his team. Most of whom looked noticeably more dejected than they had a moment prior.

“Man, Taichi,” The one holding the soccer ball called out to him. “You're so lucky to have such a cute sister!”

In response, he stormed right past the lot of them, forcefully grabbing the soccer ball along the way: “There are so many things wrong with that statement, I won't even dignify it with a proper answer. Now get back out here, so we can finish practice.”

The command was met with a series of regretful groans.

 

* * *

High above the Tokyo skyline, a cluster of clouds drifted aimlessly.

Until they began to slow.

Then change direction.

A gradual swirling of air as they danced around one another. Increasing in speed until seemingly merging with one another just long enough to form a distinct eye in the center.

Lightning crackled. But no thunder crashed.

Then, the air itself warped. Twisting and bending until a rift appeared.

And thought that rift, a lone figured emerged. Dropping down several meters, coming to a low crouch atop one of the buildings. Far above the eye of any casual onlooker. The clouds above continued to swirl for several seconds longer, dark sparks emitting from the phenomenon, before dissipating into a peaceful blue sky. All in the span of a few seconds.

Below, not a soul seemed to notice.

The figure stood. Clothed in a thick robe made of a pale material lined with brown, and secured by a dark brown belt. Steady on his feet, he straightened just enough to survey the area from beneath a large hood. Brushing a few strands of brown hair from the edge of his forehead, he barely pulled away when a small beeping noise emitted from the earpiece.

“ _Are you there? Can you hear me?_ ”

A voice. Slightly distorted. Female.

Lips twitched upward. Two fingers were placed to his ear, steady the communicator bud to maximize audio.

“Careful. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were worried about me.”

“ _I'm worried about the mission_ ,” came the reply without missing a beat. Notably defensive. “ _Communication would have been that much harder if the worlds were out of synch again._ ”

“Fortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case.”

“ _Something had to go right eventually. What do you see?_ ”

There was enough of a pause to contemplate the question. And whether or not he should give an honest response.

“A beautiful, late afternoon skyline. Picturesque, really. You should see it this—maybe I'll bring you with me next jump.”

“ _...I'm hanging up now._ ”

“No, you won't.”

Silence followed. Long enough that he actually began to suspect his current partner had followed through with her threat. But then...behind the silence, there was movement. A slight rustling of fabric as she was no doubt folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in the chair. He could picture it in his mind's eye as clear as if she were in front of him. The way her lips turned downward. Eyes boring into him with the intensity of a laser. Cold and disapproving to most. Secretly reveling in the attention to him alone.

Deep down, he knew such thoughts were trivial. Unimportant in the grand scheme of things. And yet...they brought a comforting smile to his lips all the same.

“I'm not seeing any signs of distortion. Yet.” He lifted his arm, brushing back the cloak sleeves to reveal a small computerized wrist watch. Only the numbers blinking back at him weren't the current time. A few taps to adjust the settings, and he nodded in affirmation at the data. “No detection within a seven kilometer radius. It's entirely possible...”

Something caught his eye. A flash out of his right corner. High in the sky, less than a kilometer from his current location.

“ _What is it?_ ”

Easy as it would have been to call her bluff then, the concern in her tone was matched by his own quickening heartbeat. He was just thankful they weren't monitoring his vitals that closely.

“Forget what I said before. Looks like I made it here just in time.”

 

* * *

The signal to cross turned green.

Hikari took a single step off the sidewalk before a sudden chill down her spine stopped her cold. Around her, the street population remained oblivious. Most ignoring the young teen frozen in place, staring blankly at the crosswalk stripes as her mind desperately tried to catch up with what her body was telling her.

Her phone rang. She reached for it, glancing just long enough at the screen to see Miyako's name.

“Miyako-san?”

Distorted sounds came through the receiver. A low crackling. Like static.

“Miyako-san, can you hear me?”

For a split second, she could have sworn her friend's voice was coming through the other end. Shouting, but at a volume too soft for her to make out the proper words.

Then the line went dead.

Gusts of wind began to pick up. Leaves on the ground swirled to life, rising up higher and higher into the air. Hikari followed them closely, neck cranking to get a better view.

In the distance, someone's scream echoed off the adjacent buildings.

A flicker. A trick of the eye at first, maybe, except it happened again seconds later. And again. Over and over at an increasing frequency. The sky waving and rippling like the surface of a disrupted pond until...it opened, revealing a giant bird-like creature.

Hikari dropped her bike in shock: “Parrotmon!”

Chaos erupted, but for Hikari, it was as if the world around her slowed to a crawl. People fled. Cars drove erratically on the street, honking in vein hopes of clearing a path to escape. All of them fearing the monster which had just inexplicably appeared in the sky. A monster reminiscent of those that had once terrorized their fair city years before.

Above, the wild digimon screeched and fluttered. Every flap of its massive wings send strong gusts of wind to the streets below. Strong enough that Hikari had to brace herself to keep from falling.

In the midst of it all, a second distortion appeared. Bending and warping in a manner not unlike the first, except the creature that emerged this time was unlike any digimon she had ever seen before. From that distance, it was difficult to discern little more than a dark silhouette, but she was fairly certain it was humanoid in shape. A muscle body. Dark in color. A horned helmet not unlike that of Greymon. Shapes reminiscent of wings protruding from its body. Broken wings.

The new creature let out a fierce roar before slamming its body directly into Parrotmon, the resultant collision sending them both flying through the air.

 

* * *

Sora held up one scarf in either hand. Each bearing a similar, yet still distinctly different design. One was a lavender color, interwoven with a deeper purple, with a braided pattern border and snowy wintery scene embroidered on the front. The other was more peachy, with various shades of pink and brown, and the scene depicted was of a cherry blossom field.

“Either of these would be lovely on her,” Smiling at the options, she glanced back towards Koushiro. “You said you got your father a tie, correct?”

The younger boy shuffled awkwardly in place before nodding. Clearly uncertain by the decision. “Is...that alright?”

“Actually, it works out better than you think,” she reassured him with a nod. “If you go with the scarf for your mother, then it'll be like the gifts match. Which would work perfectly for anniversary gifts.”

Her words seemed to ease some of his worry...until the ground beneath them both shook, nearly sending him to the ground. Sora's reflexes saved her, and she instinctively planted both feet to steady herself.

“...an earthquake?” she questioned, glancing around the department store. Most of the other customers seemed to be of a similar mind, and questioned only whether it would be necessary to seek shelter.

Less than a second later, however, screams erupted from just outside, and they turned to find a large crowd of people rushing passed the store windows. Frantic with panic.

Koushiro met her gaze and shook his head.

“No. Trouble.”

 

* * *

Takeru's head shot up when the ground shook. Then towards the window when he heard the distant sound of screams. A tightness was forming in the pit of his stomach already.

Turning to his brother, the two of them nodded in unison before moving to head out.

Yamato reached for his cell phone.

 

* * *

Jou could only stare in silent horror at the sight.

“...how could this be?” His hands trembled, clutching the papers in his hand tight enough to wrinkle the edges. It took several seconds for him to calm himself down enough to gently replace them back on his bedroom desk. “I thought I'd studied hard enough this time. How did I still score so low?”

Behind him, the sight of two wild digimon engaged in battle filled his window. But he had already buried his head in his arms, voice coming out in defeated, muffled tones:

“This day could not get any worse.”

 

* * *

With one kick, Taichi scored a clean shot into the net.

“Yes!”

He pumped a fist into the air, only to lower it when he realized the appointed goalie didn't even seem to notice. Nor did any one else for that matter. Frowning, he glanced around to confirm that there wasn't a single person on the field who was paying him any attention. Their eyes were instead glued to something else in the far distance.

Following their gazes, Taichi saw smoke. Coming from the same area he remembered Hikari had been heading towards.

His face paled. Practice was forgotten immediately as his body moved of its own accord, taking off at a dash's pace.

 

* * *

Everything happened too fast for Hikari to react.

Shattering of glass. Twisting of metal. Smoke erupting from the point of impact. Inhumane twin roars of pain and madness. There was something about the fight unfolding. More than echoes of a memory. It held her captive. Frozen in place, staring up with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Her breathing synched with her heartbeat. Mesmerized to the point of hypnosis.

It dulled her senses to the point where she didn't recognize the danger until it was too late.

Parrotmon attempted to swipe at its opponent, giant claws going in for a slash. But the other digimon was too fast, and all that was struck was a large corner of the skyscraper. Enough to send a large chunk hurling directly at the ground. Exactly where Hikari was standing.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The blood pounded in her ears.

She opened her mouth to scream--

A sudden force knocked her to one side, enveloping her in a warm, tight embrace as they rolled away to the safety of a small alleyway. Seconds later, she heard the distinct crash of impact. Fabric brushed across her skin, and when she tried to breath again, she caught a lung full of dust. Wheezing gasps followed. She coughed twice. Legs shaking as the weight covering her was lifted, giving her the chance to look up.

Through blurred vision, she saw what appeared to be a white hood with hints of spiky brown hair sticking out from beneath it. And a smile that, in any other circumstances, one might describe as charming.

“...you...” the resemblance was strong. Incredibly strong. Enough that she knew she could not rely on her eyes alone, closing her mouth and swallowing once as she let her instincts guide her next words: “...you're not Gennai.”

Her ears were ringing, but she was fairly certain she heard the young man chuckle. “No. I'm not.”

“Then who are you?”

“A friend.”

The sounds of battle drew their attention back to the present. The hooded figure turned back, and the smile was replaced by a deep frown.

“Stay here, Hikari-san. Wait for your brother. No doubt he's already on his way.”

Her jaw dropped. “How did you know--?”

But the figure was already up and running off, leaving her to stare after him. Wondering not only who he was or where he'd come from...but how he'd known her name.

 

* * *

Half a dozen computer monitors blinked in unison. All of them signaling precisely one thing: danger.

In the center was the most prominent screen. The one everyone kept an eye on, regardless of their actual assignment. It was there the images of thirteen children were on full display. Names, dates of birth, and—in certain cases—noted relations. Eight of them were larger than the others, displayed across the top in a single line. Below, and to the right, were four additional pictures. The remaining thirteenth was isolated to the opposite corner.

Data scrolled along the bottom at a pace too quick for most to decipher, but for the young woman sitting in the middle, there was no need. Her fingers were already gripping the arm rests tight enough to turn her knuckles white despite her otherwise calm exterior. She knew what it meant.

So did the man standing directly behind her. Who paused just long enough to take a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling with a nod towards their shared reflection in the screen.

“It's begun.”


	3. Chapter 2

The streets were filled with screams of chaos. People ran in all directions. Some remained frozen to the spot in a sort of terrified awe; it was these individuals Taichi had to watch for most, so captivated by the monsters battling hundreds of meters above they would have missed getting run over by a train, let alone a teenaged soccer captain.

As it was, he utilized ever soccer skill committed to muscle memory to weave through the dense population.

“Hikari!”

He paused only once at one of the larger intersections, cupping his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice. A few seconds of no response, and he took off once more. Around him, people were beginning to take shelter in some of the street shops, peppering the display windows and open doorways with wide-eyed expressions. A few officers were scattered, doing their best to maintain professional composure all while unable to hide the uncertainty in their own expressions.

His sister was nowhere to be seen among them.

“Hikari, where are you?” Calling out once more, Taichi nearly tripped at the sound of a large crash came from above.

He looked up, and to his horror, saw the pair of Digimon for the first time. Parrotmon, a being he could have recognized in his sleep, was fighting...at a glance, he could have sworn the silhouette bore a resemblance to Greymon, with that horned helmeted head, but a second glance revealed a much leaner frame. The wings were wrong, too. And the way it moved...so erratic, but swift. Limber. Each time Parrotmon let out a cry, it was because his opponent had struck yet another blow. High and higher into the sky, only to turn around and send it crashing directly into one of the rooftops below.

The impact not only sent a shock-wave even Taichi could feel from where he stood, but sprinkled the streets below with debris.

Still...Taichi's eyes narrowed. It was clear to his trained eye the difference in power levels between the two, and yet…

“He's holding back.” He watched Parrotmon move to stand, head shaking in attempt to brush off the latest blow, only to get knock right back down again by the mysterious opponent. “He's not trying to win. Or Parrotmon would've already...it's more like he's trying to...distract? Contain?”

A few more steps, and Taichi rounded the next street corner. Only then did he realize there was a third figure involved. One significantly smaller than the other two, and standing on the edge of the opposite rooftop. Something in their hand glinted in the afternoon sunlight, and Taichi's eyes widened.

“Is that--?”

Movement. To his left.

Taichi spun on his heels, fists clenched at his sides...and saw his sister standing nearby.

“...Hikari!”

A heavy weight lifted from his chest as he signed in relief, quickly jogging over to her side. But if Hikari was aware of his approach, she gave very little indication. She too, was staring up at the ongoing battle. Brows furrowed in concern. A hand pressed to her chest. Occasionally, her lips would press together and her fist clenched that might tighter. Like she were in pain.

“Hikari...”

In pain, but unafraid.

Her eyes continued to follow each subsequent attack above with a practiced precision, taking in anything and everything she could. Not for the first time, Taichi was reminded of just how used to fighting his little sister was. How much of their life had been spent either actively involved, or paying witness.

No wonder she had yet to run away. Nor bat an eyelash at his approach, only turning to him when he gently tugged at her arm.

Their eyes met, and though Taichi could see his own certainty reflected in her eyes, it faltered at the reluctance in hers.

“...I know. Trust me, Hikari, I get it.” His words were calm and calculated, in direct contrast to the rapid pounding of his heart. “But Agumon and Tailmon aren't here. There's nothing we can do.”

For roughly half a second, it looked like Hikari would argue. Instead, she closed her mouth and nodded. Taichi's hand slid down her arm until it found her hand, clasping it firmly in his. Unwilling to risk getting separated again. With one eye lingering on the ensuing (albeit increasingly one-sided) battle above, he started out. Hikari was less than a step behind.

Hikari's cell rang. She used her free hand to reach into her pocket and answer.

“ _Hikari-chan?”_

Takeru's voice stopped her in her tracks; feeling the pull, Taichi stopped as well, turning back in question. Her eyes remained locked with his and she nodded.

“We're here.” She responded to the unspoken question. “Where they're fighting. A portal opened up in the sky as I was on my way to meet Miyako-san.”

“ _So she's there with you now?_ ”

Hikari shook her head. “No. Oniichan is.”

“ _Taichi-san?_ ” Hikari waited for Takeru to say more, but it was a series of muffled voices and audible distortion that followed. The phone was being shuffled around, and when things settled, it was Yamato's voice she heard next: “ _Put him on_.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear just long enough to stare at it before obliging, handing Taichi her cell without explanation. He, too, seemed confused at the situation, wondering what Takeru needed to say to him he couldn't say to Hikari. However, he barely had time to lift the receiver to his ear before they both heard Yamato shouting from the other end:

“ _ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO ANSWERING YOUR PHONE?!”_

Wincing, Taichi recoiled back so quickly he nearly dropped the phone. He allowed a split second's time to glare heatedly at it before switching the audio to speaker instead.

“What are you, my girlfriend?” He snapped back, not waiting for Yamato to respond before adding: “I don't have it on me. The minute I realized what was happening, I took off. My bag's still at school.”

“ _Is there anyone else with you?_ ” Takeru's voice came through, most likely in an attempt to curb a potential fight between the older boys.

“Yeah. A bunch of people panicking.” Taichi frowned as he looked around. The crowds had thinned considerably in the last thirty seconds, but he could still hear screaming in the distance. “It's like Vamdemon all over again.”

“Or Hikarigaoka,” Hikari added softly.

As was often the case with the young girl, there was something about the way she spoke the name of the Chosen Children's former home that gave Taichi pause. He spared her a sideways glance, only to find her looking up once more. Still taking in the battle.

On a hunch, Taichi followed her gaze. He saw...essentially more of the same.

“Taichi!”

“Taichi-san!”

A pair of voices called to him in the distance, and when he looked in the direction they came from, he saw two varying shades of auburn making their way over.

His lips twisted upward in an amused smirk. “Sora! Koushiro! Over here!”

The former appeared to be having a much easier time of things, jogging over to the Yagami siblings with a weak, if concerned, smile. Koushiro, meanwhile, arrived seconds later with slightly flushed cheeks and an audible heaviness to his breathing. He stopped to rest his hands on his knees, slightly hunched over as he managed to get out:

“Good thing...” a gasp. “...we were out…” another gasp “...shopping today.”

“What's going on, Taichi?” Sora's attention was split between the Chosen leader and the battle above. “Why are there Digimon in the real world again?”

“I don't know.” He shook his head before turning to Koushiro. “I thought you said the portals were all closed.”

“They...were...” Allowing himself one last, deep breath, the Chosen of Knowledge shrugged the backpack from his shoulders and knelt down. Undoing the clasps, he reached in and pulled out his favorite PinApple brand laptop—a recently upgraded model. The three remaining Chosen gathered around him as he opened and booted up the device, rapidly inputting a series of commands to pull up the desired program. An 'error' message popped up, and he shook his head. “They still are. We can't get through.”

“And yet they did.”

A fourth voice drew everyone's attention then, and they turned to find the Ishida/Takaishi brothers walking up the opposite street. Yamato made sure to send a fleeting heated glance Taichi's way—which the brunette promptly shrugged off—before coming up on Koushiro's other side, next to Sora.

“How'd you two get here so quickly?”

Maybe it was the casual nature of the question itself, but despite the current situation, Sora found herself rolling her eyes. “We were on a date.” She echoed the same flat tone she'd given Taichi earlier.

Yamato snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Below, the clacking of keys paused just long enough for Koushiro to mutter: “...seriously, why is it that hard for people to believe?”

“Hikari-chan...” Takeru spoke up then, and it was the concern to his tone that drew everyone's attention. Including the aforementioned girl, who seemed equally confused until he stepped forward and indicated downward. “You're bleeding.”

Sure enough, when Hikari looked down, she saw a gash on her leg several centimeters in length just above the ankle. Her torn sock was drenched in blood on one side, parts of it so over-saturated that trickles were making their way down the side of her school loafers.

 _The crash._ When the above debris hit the ground, she must have been hit in the leg. In the heat of the moment, with so much adrenaline coursing through her veins...not to mention, distracted by her mysterious savior...she hadn't even noticed.

When she looked up again, Takeru was standing in front of her. He hesitated just long enough to smile reassuringly before tilting his head to remove the scarf around his neck. Then he knelt down and—as she watched in a silent awe—used the fabric to blot some of the area around the injury. Just enough to stop the trickling. From there, he wrapped the entire scarf around her leg several times before tying it off. Tight, but not so tight as to restrict movement.

Once satisfied with its security, he rose to his feet, smiling brightening as she continued to stare back with an unreadable expression on her face.

“...Takeru-kun...”

Several seconds of silence followed, in which the pair were either oblivious to or uncaring that they were being closely watched by both their brothers. And Sora, who looked equal parts worried and intrigued.

It was Koushiro's laptop that finally broke the spell, drawing everyone's attention back to the present. Wordlessly, the six of them crowded around to get a good look at the data filling in.

An image of Parrotmon appeared first, along with the usual Intel. None of it new. He was still registered as a Giant Bird Type at the Perfect Level. He still bore two Holy Rings, one on each ankle. His two main attacks involved flying at the speed of sound to create a series of shock waves and generating electricity in its feathers.

“Neither of which I've seen it do.” Yamato pointed out.

“Probably because it hasn't had the chance.” Taichi looked up just in time to see Parrotmon take another harsh blow to the sternum, and winced. “There comes a point when you almost start to feel sorry for him.”

“Is there any way to tell if he's the same one from before?” Sora asked.

Koushiro shrugged. “There's no way of knowing for certain. Statistically, there's always a chance. If it saw a portal and recognized it for what it was because it had gone through one before. One this one didn't open up in the same place as it did ten years ago.”

“Ten years ago, our time.” Sora lightly amended. “The worlds were out of synch at one point, remember? We don't know how long it would have been for them.”

“Actually--” Koushiro began, looking quite pleased with himself, before he was once more interrupted.

This time, by Yamato: “What about the other one?”

The question gave him little time to mourn the lack of shining spotlight. All the more because the process to identify the second Digimon would take longer. They were fighting at a greater distance, and he had even less information to go on. Still, once he managed to hone in on their signatures and filter out Parrotmon's data, a new entry appeared.

It was blank.

Koushiro blinked once at the vacant spot where the image profile would normally go. Twice at the distinct lack of characters filling in the text boxes. “What do you mean there's no data? There's ALWAYS data!”

“Maybe your database is out of date?” Taichi suggested.

Koushiro looked offended for a solid three seconds before realizing he had no adequate comeback.

“It's more than that...” Everyone turned back to Hikari, and she indicated upward. “Look. Around Parrotmon's ankles. Where the rings are.”

They looked

For several tense seconds, their eyes remained locked on Parrotmon. Focusing on its legs. It was almost impossible to see, and at one point, even Koushiro was tempted to give up.

But then, Takeru let out a sharp gasp: “There!”

A flickering of sorts. Like static, only pink. Focusing primarily in the area around the Holy Rings. Each time it appeared, Parrotmon gave a loud screech. One that could easily be mistaken for a battle cry, particularly as its opponent continued to gain the upper hand. Blow after blow ensued, though with noticeably less intensity than before.

Parrotmon was weakening. His opponent not only recognized this, but was showing mercy.

“He's in pain.” Hikari's knuckles were practically white. Her arm trembled, to the point where both Takeru and Sora were tempted to intervene. Yet she stood her ground, showing no other signs of wavering as she turned back to the others. Confident. “Whatever that is...it's hurting his heart.”

Not one of them questioned how she knew this.

“Are you sure it's the cause?” Takeru asked gently, though even he seemed nearly convinced it was. “He's fighting a losing battle. It could just be the attacks.”

“Or an updated version of his electricity-based attack.” Koushiro suggested. Sounding even less certain than Takeru.

Hikari merely shook her head.

***

***

High above, the hooded figure was similarly focused on the pink static. Diverting his attention away from the battle long enough to check the readings on his wrist device.

“That's it.” Confirmation aside, he was less than pleased at the finding. A deep frown appeared as he straightened before cupping his mouth with both hands and calling out: “Don't touch his legs! Aim for the wings!”

A growl was the only verbal response. Short and curt, like the Digimon equivalent of a snort.

Allowing a sheepish smile, he shrugged. “Right. You already knew that, didn't you?”

In an attempt to further prove his point, his partner proceeded to wait just long enough for Parrotmon to take a sluggish swipe at him before dodging back. But not before executing a spinning kick to his shoulder, just hard enough to knock the Giant Bird Type flat on its back. His body twitched several times before falling still.

“See, now you're just showing off.” His partner grinned, hands proudly coming to sit on his hips. The air of victory lasted approximately three seconds before the air between them began to twist and warp, and he recognized what was happening even before the portal ripped open. “...oh, _now_ it decides to show up. How thoughtful.”

A series of nonverbal gestures were exchanged, and the remaining conscious Digimon lifted his foe over his head. Quite the site, given the blatant size difference between the two. Yet Parrotmon may as well have been the size of a Chuumon, for all the effort it took to roughly toss him off the roof, directly into the open portal.

“ _You did it._ ” Her voice rang in his ear, and he couldn't decide if she sounded relieved or proud. He liked to think it was the latter. “ _Now see if you--_ ”

Not for the first time, however, he ignored what she had to say next in favor of exchanging a look with his partner. And a knowing grin.

In near perfect unison, the two jumped from opposite sides into the air, only to be swallowed up by the portal just before it faded.

 

***

***

“NO!”

The young woman shot up in her seat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. For the next few seconds, she heard nothing but the sound of blood pumping in her ears. Saw nothing but the vital signs being displayed across one of the smaller screens. A hand came upon her shoulder, attempting to offer a comforting weight, but she quickly shrugged it off and stepped forward.

Reaching up, she pressed on the ear piece in desperate attempt to detect even the faintest sounds indicating--

“ _You know, if I lose hearing in that ear, I won't be able to hear you yelling at me._ ”

At the sound of his voice, strong (and cocky) as ever, she felt her knees go weak. Closing her eyes, a single deep breath was all it took before she slowly lowered herself back in her seat.

“Maybe if you stopped doing stupid things all the time, I wouldn't have to yell at you.” She replied after a moment's pause. Her voice not even cracking once. “What do you think you're doing? That wasn't part of the mission.”

“ _It kind of is. I mean, we need answers, right? Can't think of a better place to find them than here.”_

“No, what we need is help. According to our readings, six of them were right there.”

“ _But not the rest. Including the Wild Card._ ” There was a moment of auditory distortion, and she felt her heart start to speed up again before his voice returned. “ _Besides...it's getting late. You know I'll have a much better chance of finding a good place to sleep here than there._ ”

“But--”

“ _Sweet Dreams!_ ”

The gentle click of him disconnecting on his end may as well have been a thunderous boom, the way it echoed in her ear. Recoiling, she was left for several seconds afterward in a stunned silence. Jaw slack. Waiting for him to reconnect and tell her he was just joking.

Ten seconds passed. No such signal came. Slowly, she removed the headpiece from her ear. Knowing it would be hours before he attempted contact again.

“Well?” A deep voice from behind asked. The only one who dared speak because he was the only one not intimidated.

She allowed herself time to remember herself before turning back with the most deadpan tone she could muster: “If he manages to survive all this, I'm going to kill him myself.”

Behind the cigarette, his lips twitched upward.

 

***

***

***

It was a little difficult managing the bottle of sanitizing alcohol in one hand, cotton swab in the other, and balancing her cell against her ear, but somehow, Sora prevailed.

Her mother was taking the news surprisingly well. Sometimes, she forgot just how much credit the older woman was owed. For all the early years of strenuous relationship between them, she had been one of the first to come around to the idea of her daughter being a Chosen. Rivaling Hikari and Taichi's mother only in terms of accepting nature towards the Digimon and what their continued presence in the Real World signified.

“I'll be home in a little while, mama.” Sora reassured on her end, wiping away the last of the blood from Hikari's leg. This gave her an opportunity to finally put down both the swap and bottle, freeing her hands enough to alleviate the burden from her neck. “Right after dinner. Yagami-san insisted I stay.” A slight pause, and she bit back a small laugh. “Of course I'll tell her you said hello. Bye-bye.”

With the conversation ended, Sora returned her attention to the young girl sitting on the bed...and her smile quickly faded.

Hikari looked about a million miles away. Barely flinching as the alcohol came into contact with her open wound. Nor did she respond to the pressure of the gauze Sora pressed against it. Nor the bandages tightly wrapped around her leg. They were large enough to be obvious to anyone, even beneath her knee-high socks, so perhaps it was fortunate for her the attack had been so public this time. She wouldn't have to think of some other excuse for the injury.

Satisfied with her work, Sora stood up, looking to Hikari for a response. She received none, and when she followed Hikari's distant gaze, she saw her looking at the bloodied scarf sitting on the edge of her bed. Takeru's scarf.

“I can wash that,” Sora offered.

But Hikari shook her head. “No. I'll do it.” She leaned over just enough to pick it up, holding the stained fabric in both hands. “It's the least I could do.”

“It was very kind of him.” Sora commented lightly. Watching Hikari's expression carefully for any signs of a reaction as she came to sit on the bed beside her. “He still looks after you, even now, doesn't he?”

She expected a smile. Or at least the ghost of one.

“...I wish he wouldn't,” the younger girl murmured softly as she got up.

Sora followed her movements in confusion, wondering what she meant by that.

 

***

***

Taichi was sitting on the couch in the main room, leaning forward with his arms resting on both knees. His mother was in the adjacent kitchen, sipping from a glass of juice as she added a bit more seasoning to their evening meal. At one point, she asked him something about setting the table. He didn't seem to hear.

Instead, his eyes were glued to the news broadcast discussing that day's attack. Stock footage of past Digimon sightings, some consisting of amateur video footage while others still images, flashed across the screen while the reporters did their best to explain away the event.

“I can help,” he barely registered Sora's voice emerging from Hikari's room.

“That's sweet of you to offer, Sora,” his mother tutted in return, and he could have imagined her waving a dismissive hand if he bothered to pay the conversation more attention. “But just because I think of you as a daughter doesn't mean you're not still a guest. Unless you think you can grab Taichi's attention long enough to get him to help you.”

A few more exchanges between them followed, but Taichi was instead drawn to the sudden shift in weight as Hikari came to sit beside him. He glanced at her leg just long enough to affirm Sora had done a fantastic job seeing to her leg before returning to the news broadcast.

The anchors were talking about Hikarigaoka now, and his frown deepened.

“What are we going to do, Taichi?” Sora asked him, coming to sit on his other side.

His hands gripped the remote tightly. “I...don't know.” He answered truthfully. “Part of me wants to believe this was a one-time thing. But we know better, don't we?”

Her silence was one of affirmation. Weight awkwardly shifted against the seat, and it was from sheer exhaustion alone that Taichi allowed himself to relax against the back cushions, sinking into them with the weight of everything he was feeling right then.

“Koushiro said he was going to look into it.” Sora spoke up again, even though she was only repeating what they already knew. “He still has contacts all over the world. With luck, one of them might know something.”

Taichi sat up at that, her words recalling something else to mind: “What about that guy on the roof?”

“What guy?”

“He looked like Gennai.” Hikari spoke up then, and they both turned to look at her. “But it wasn't him.”

“You could see from that high up?” Taichi asked, brows raising.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then how…?”

“Who was he, Hikari?” Sora asked.

There was a long pause on her end.

“...I have no idea.”

The weight of those four words, coming from Hikari, of all people, left Taichi and Sora in an uneasy silence.

Koushiro was generally considered the uncontested Genius of the group. He was the bearer or Knowledge, after all. But there were often times when even he would concede to Hikari's eerily confident awareness of things regarding the Digital World. And if this was something even she had no answer to? Not even the slightest inference?

For perhaps the first time since their Digital World Adventure began, Taichi had the feeling they were navigating completely uncharted territory.

 

***

***

The room was dark. The curtains, drawn. Only the faint glow of the computer monitor provided any light at all, casting shadows upon the young woman's face that made her seem far older than her years.

As did the deep frown she bore.

“ _I realize this is not the time to say 'I told you so'--_ ”

“Then don't,” she snapped at the man on the other end of the line. Unflinching at either the low chuckle it earned her or the way the screen flickered in and out as a result of the weak connection. “It's nothing we weren't already prepared for.”

“ _And yet he somehow managed to get the jump on you so quickly, he took out the threat before you had a chance to mobilize_.”

“He got lucky,” A very unlady-like snort echoed into the air. Leaning back in her chair, she folded her arms across her chest. It was a subconsciously defensive movement the man seemed to pick up on, and the second she caught hints of a smirk on his irritating features, she dropped the arms to her sides. “This whole damn department was created specifically for this reason. To study. To train. To prepare.”

“ _And to protect,_ ” He added, though they both knew well enough she hadn't intended any more. It was as if he were finishing a moto not her own. “ _Yet, despite all that, it still won't be enough_.”

“You don't know that.”

“ _Actually, I do. Better than you think_.”

“You don't know what I think.”

“ _Wrong again. I know exactly how you think. Because I thought the same way. We all did. And, just as you will be, we were buried by our own hubris. In the end...they truly are the only ones who can make a difference.”_

She snorted again, uncaring at the lack of professionalism in her response. “You're telling me I should leave the safety of this world to a bunch of children.”

“ _Children who have literally been fighting this fight since before your Department formed_.”

She opened her mouth to comment back, but hesitated when another figure stepped forward. The only other person in the room, and not because he'd been granted permission. Still, she turned to acknowledge him with the thinnest of patience.

“I think you should hear him out.”

“Don't think,” She muttered back. “You're no good at it.”

“Harsh.” He sounded undeterred by the biting comment. Far used to her demeanor. Especially when she knew she was in a losing battle but prepared to fight to the end. “You can get your own coffee next all-nighter, then.”

An awkward cough interrupted them. “Much as I hate to disrupt a good lovers' spat, I still need an answer.”

“And here's mine.”

Practically slamming her hand down on the keyboard, she ended the connection right there and then. The smug face she was already growing to hate was replaced with a black screen, its surrounding illumination allowing her own scowl to reflect back at her. As did the face of the man behind her.

“If you're going to stand there and judge me, you may as well give me something useful in the meantime.”

His reflection looked close to mirroring the smug man's for a split second before a cough to cover it up, followed by the retrieval of a small envelope. When he spoke next, he was reading from its contents.

“Two are still unaccounted for, but the rest are set to convene Friday evening. It's unknown whether or not they're aware of the American's presence.” A pause, and he risked closing the file before, in a more personal tone, asked: “Should we intercept?”

“If you still need to ask me that, you really are no good at thinking.”

Tempting as it would have been to smile, he instead maintained his professional aura as he clicked his heels together, straightening his posture. “Ma'am.”

With that, he turned to exit the room and convey the new orders. The light from the hallway was bright, and she averted her eyes until the door clicked shut again, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

“...he thinks I don't know.” She sat back in her chair with a heavy sigh, eyes falling to a small picture frame on the edge of her desk. “But the truth is...we knew better than anyone. Didn't we, Tapirmon?”


End file.
